He loved her more than he ever had.
More than morning coffee, or the Sun at midday, or the first inhale of a new pack of cigarettes.
She couldn't help but hate him.
Couldn't stop from spiking her words with poison,
Laying him down on a bed laced with daggers,
Hiding snakes in his closet, and scorpions in his shoes.

They were the perfect couple,
And oh how he loved her!
And the pancakes she made him,
Of shards of glass,
Her own blood spilled into the batter
And her new perfume of Carbon Monoxide,
She pulled him in close,
"Breathe deeply dear, deeply"
And the way he was never quite sure
his car brakes would still be functional in the morning.

She made "Wanted" posters with his face,
"Dead" they read, neglecting "or alive."
He picked out the tiny blue pills from his muesli,
The circular ones from his sandwich,
Larger ovals squished between a slice of cheese and it's *******,
and he smiled at the notion
that she'd been thinking of him
when she put them there.

She'd set fire to the bed in which he slept,
And leave the gas oven turned on, door wide open.
Put him on a diet,
How long can one last without food?
Without water?
Without air?

Infatuated with each other,
And vain attempts at love and death.
They were perfect.
And she knew,
in all her sadness,
that with the ending of his life,
Hers was sure to follow.

I can not stay still.
I'm not of wood
But of water.

If I remain still I grow stale
Become useless to all,
And harmful to those who try drink me.

He tried to hold me back with anger,
With lingering glares
And wolfish growls.

He tried to hold me back with pity,
With new found pleasures he'd never tasted before
With words to prove his mind was similar to my twisted own.

He tried to hold me back with promises,
Of change and getting better
And everything being perfect in the end.

I would not have it.

I am water,
And not meant to be contained.

I'm on the wrong side of the world,
And my toes are cold.

I will bury them deep beneath the layers and insulate until i can't feel.

Perhaps upon doing the same to the whole of my person,
I'll be too warm to feel anything at all.

Anything except, of course,
The persistent motion of my undulating breath,
Muffled and entrapped beneath the covers,
Surrounding me in the rejected.

I would feel at home.

I never think of you.

Not even in the dark,
Or the silences,
Or in the moments when you ought to be near.

I do not miss you.
There’s no hole where you were,
No indentation.

I hardly knew,
Hardly know,
You were even there.

It doesn’t **** me to be alone.
I’m doing just fine by myself.
Better than I ever did with you.
Far better.
So much better.
A million times better than ever I’d imagined.

I do not need you.
I did not need you.
I've never needed you,
Nor anyone else for that matter.

And so no,
I never think of you.
You don't ever cross my mind.

I woke hungover and heartbroken,
ethanol lying thick on my breath
as the fog upon my mind.
I thought of you,
and how i'd hurt you,
and how i didn't seem to care.

It seems to be the only way for things to end.
Strange how quick the tragic ending can be forgotten,
in the presence of a bright and glimmering
potential happy ending.

Stranger still how none assume
a happy ending could be achieved alone,
as if engraved within our skulls
is the knowledge that we,
Alone,
could never be enough for ourselves.

I've been picking and choosing,
the serial monogamist strikes again!

What surprises me is that i've not yet run out of willing suitors.
I wouldn't date me.

Let's reinforce these ideas we've gone over
and think of the energetics of the system
He said.
So we sat
Encountering and ensuring our own perception
Of reality
And that which we do not believe in.
Is your idea of perfection based on efficiency,
Or on a looser concept of everything being alright?
Well it's all dependent on the context
And the content
Of what you're trying to say.
He shook his head in disbelief-
Do you listen to your own words?
I think we're all here just waiting to go home.
I don't mind being the first one to leave.

I once saw a Maori woman standing in the rain,
She watched me as i walked by
And smiled a little in her silence.
She has stayed with me since that day,
Follows me still
Smiling and silent
Moko carved on her chin
And greenstone hanging round her neck
Perfectly smooth
as i imagine her skin once was.
She wears a cloak on her back,
Decorated with the feathers
of slow and flightless birds,
It has no hood to protect from weather
The rain freckles her face.
She is worried,
Constantly worried,
Yet she never spoke a word,
Until one day at the beach
I lifted a shell to my ear
And from within her voice spoke to me
Saying
You do not own nature,
the Earth owns you.
She smiled and walked away.

It's an ordinary story,
Isn't it always?
I'd never dreamed of such a mess,
And much less,
That that was what it would all come to,
In the end.

He's so old, man, so old
He turned 100 the other day
And i just had to ask him; how?
How the hell do you survive for that long?
He said he never smoke,
Rarely drank
Stayed active
Ate healthy
And i said no, no that's not what i mean,
I mean, How could you survive,
How could you stand it all for that many years?
He looked at me blankly
And said,
"You know, I really have no clue"

She spoke as if directly,
To the abyss,
Where every lost lover who ever lived wanders still.
Whispering away secrets she swore she'd never tell.

I need someone to understand,
(her mind said to her brain)
That the sun's not always bright enough,
And i'm not happy by myself (or with you).
The wind's not the only creature who howls.

And she's been wasting her time on hoping lately.
So much to do,
But can't find the time to get any of it done.
Her appointment books been taken over by "wallow in self pity" time-slots.

She keeps hoping that someone might notice.
He's so **** oblivious and clearly nothing that she wants.
But, I guess, she shrugs, he's there.

She was surprised to see how many tears could fit into her face,
Trapped there by weakening embraces.
She wonders how long it'd take to drown.

She's not one for functioning well in normal society,
Rather hide away in bed,
Smoking a cigarette as she sips on tea,
Too hot to drink,
But she doesn't mind the burn.

And as she sits she carves away the time.
She downed the whole bottle.
He still didn't show.